Death is a Funny Thing
by 3466-0402
Summary: Naruto is killed by the villagers at the age of eleven. Too trusting, too naive, Kami says, and she just can't bear to see him suffer any longer. Of course, now they need a new Child of Prophecy, and Namikaze Minato, stewing away in the Shinigami's stomach, just so happens to be available. Minato-Is-Naruto!Fic, also, Intelligent'Naruto', Fuuinjutsu'Naruto'.
1. Dealing with Death

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

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**Chapter One - Dealing with Death**

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Life in the Shinigami's stomach wasn't as bad as the books and scrolls had made it out to be, Minato realised. It wasn't quite a never-ending darkness as much as it was a space of nothingness in which you floated aimlessly around in, and you were never really alone. Minato had during some point in non-existent time befriended the head of a Suna-nin who called himself Akihiko the Awe-Inspiring, and had shaken hands with a half-chewed arm. One never really felt hungry either, or cold or anything much beyond the general range of human emotions, and as such Minato had never really been tempted to try any one of the several hundred onigiri floating about the nothingness. Besides, the thought of eating something that the Shinigami had gotten to first was just disgusting, considering that his diet usually consisted of human souls and not human food. Though who knew that the Shinigami had an appetite for rice balls?

Time in the Shinigami's stomach was fluid, but whenever the Shinigami needed to guide someone into the afterlife (logically, Minato knew that this had to happen fairly often), the contents of its stomach would get treated to a view of the human realm. Minato usually wandered off to watch Naruto, and what he saw always made his heart break. Naruto (his boy, his son!) beaten and abused by the very villagers Minato had given his life for. The more idealistic part of him had wanted Naruto to be seen as a hero for his sacrifice – the other part, the part that allowed him to decimate Iwa's armies and kill women and children without being torn apart by guilt, knew that that was impossible. Still, it didn't stop him from being incredibly disappointed in Konoha. He'd thought that they'd respect his dying wish, at least. And wasn't the resemblance between him and Naruto fairly obvious? Not that this was in any way a good thing, though Minato had been hoping that they'd recognise Naruto as his son. Instead, the villagers had jumped to the conclusion that the Kyuubi (reputation for being a cruel and crafty fox and all) was taking the image of their precious Yondaime to mock them. _Idiots_, Minato scoffed. He often wished that the Kyuubi had been a nine-tailed turtle, or something.

Currently, as he watched Naruto getting hit over the head by a glass bottle, Minato realised that he really wanted to kill the villagers. And he would have too, if being dead (and the fact that he'd _died_ for this stupid village) hadn't been such an inconvenient thing. Minato's clenched his fists uselessly against his sides, and aimed a kick at the approximate location of a passing onigiri.

The Shinigami's stomach rumbled then, Minato felt the connection to the outside world fade, and once again, he found himself standing in nothingness watching junk-filled nothingness (briefly, he pondered the contradictory nature of these two statements). Akihiko the Awe-Inspiring Head floated gently over.

'I think Suna's Jinchuuriki got it worse,' he said in what Minato supposed was meant to be a comforting voice. 'I mean, the seal's pretty crappy, Shukaku doesn't let the poor boy sleep, and the kid's on the verge of going insane.' He paused, tilting his head slightly. 'He has gone insane, actually.'

'And you're telling me this, why?' Minato knew very well the state of Suna's Jinchuuriki, having studied the seals and found them completely worthless.

'What I mean to say is,' Akihiko the Awe-Inspiring Head said, 'you've done the best you can for your kid, and it really isn't your fault that the villagers can't see that.' He bumped Minato's shoulder lightly with his chin, and Minato resisted the urge to push him away. Akihiko the Awe-Inspiring head was only trying to make him feel better, after all, and even though he was really making Minato feel a lot worse, the effort wasn't unappreciated.

'It does make you wonder though,' Akihiko the Awe-Inspiring Head continued, his voice soft, 'with how ugly the world is, if there really is anything in the world truly worth dying for.'

Your friends, Minato thought, your village, your son…?

'Ramen,' Minato finally said, ' Ramen is nice.'

0o0o0o0o

Minato knew something was wrong the next time the Shinigami's stomach quivered and flared with the lights and colours of the human realm. For one, Naruto's bleeding and broken body was the first thing he saw. That had never happened before, and it drove a stake of fear and worry into his heart. He'd never really felt afraid for Naruto's life, having been confident that the fox wouldn't let him die. Worried yes, guilty definitely, along with copious amounts of anger directed at the villagers, but never truly afraid.

And then he saw the Shinigami's bony fingers reach directly for Naruto and he _understood_, and his world shattered.

Naruto, dead? How could that have happened? It couldn't happen, not because of a few drunken villagers, it just _wasn't possible_. The fox was supposed to heal him – the fox had to heal him. If Naruto died, so did Kyuubi, and Minato knew for a fact that the fox loved being alive too much to allow itself to die. He couldn't have failed Naruto!

Minato pressed forwards against what he thought was perhaps the lining of the Shinigami's stomach, fingers clenched and eyes wide, because maybe if he pushed hard enough he could go down and help –

He was almost surprised to see Sarutobi rushing towards Naruto's body (his boy, his _son_! Naruto couldn't be dead), shoulders tense with worry and fear and panic, gesturing madly at the medics speeding along behind him. He hoped almost that the medics would be able to save his son, but the grip that the Shinigami had upon Naruto's soul was tight and unrelenting.

'Let him go!' Minato roared, pounding his fists against the Shinigami's stomach. Where the hell was Jiraiya when you needed him? Just because Jiraiya had a spy network to take care of didn't mean that he had the right to abandon Minato's son! He'd trusted the Toad Sage to watch out for Naruto, named him his godfather, and now Naruto was dead. Minato was going to murder Jiraiya if he ever got the chance to.

The Shinigami pulled Naruto's soul free from his body and immediately, the connection to the human realm began to fade. _No_, _no_! Minato lunged at his son, fingers grasping, reaching… He'd failed Naruto, he'd failed Kushina, and he'd failed his family. And Kakashi, oh, Kakashi, the boy was going to tear himself apart from the guilt of having let his Sensei's last living legacy die. Minato crumpled to his knees and buried his head in his hands, eyes still wide with shock. He hadn't been able to protect his son. For all his rankings and all his knowledge and power, he hadn't been able to protect his son.

The Shinigami, having sent Naruto off to heaven, was now in a bit of a pickle. Naruto had been the Child of Prophecy after all, the only one left since Namikaze Minato's death, and now there was no one to save the Shinobi world from certain doom. The Toads weren't going to be very happy. But Kami had _insisted_ that Uzumaki Naruto be allowed to carry on to the afterlife. She didn't want him to suffer anymore, etcetera, etcetera, too naïve, too trusting, haven't you been following the News of the Future? The Shinigami hadn't really been listening. In any case, Naruto was now out of the Shinigami's jurisdiction, and he needed to find someone to replace the Child of Prophecy. That someone was currently stewing away in his stomach. This was going to be difficult.

Getting into the Shinigami's stomach was the easy part, really. You summoned, you got eaten, and that was pretty much it. Getting out was difficult. Not only did you need the consent of the person you were trying to, for lack of a better term, regurgitate, it also caused a rather horrible case of indigestion. Also, you needed an empty body. The Shinigami sighed. The faster he got this done, the better. Uzumaki Naruto's body was currently being kept functional by the Shinigami's power, but the Kyuubi was proving to be quite an annoyance, what with the way it kept smashing itself against the bars of its cage.

'Namikaze Minato,' the Shinigami said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Truth be told, this was the first time he had ever communicated with the contents of his stomach. Already he could feel the first signs of indigestion.

Minato started at the voice and looked around. 'Um, yes?'

Now, how best to go about doing this? The Shinigami decided not to waffle. 'Your son did not die because of the failure of your seal,' he said. 'Kami decided that he's suffered enough. He's too naïve, too trusting, and he would have gotten hurt had he gone down living. She told me to grant him passage to heaven.'

Minato was silent, and his head was bowed. His confusion was giving the Shinigami a stomachache. 'You are the only one who can take your son's place as the Child of Prophecy.'

Minato's head snapped up. 'Take his place? What do you –'

'You will be allowed to live again, as Naruto, and die again, as Naruto, as though the contract never existed. That means you get to go on to the proper afterlife to meet your friends and uh, family.'

Minato frowned. The deal was sweet, but he couldn't just take his son's body like that, not after he'd just been killed.

'I can't –'

'You'll be able to change the villagers' opinion of your son.'

'But I –'

'You'll be able to help your son achieve his goal.'

Minato had seen just how much Naruto had wanted to be Hokage, to gain the respect and love of Konoha. Despite the fact that living in his son's body sounded vaguely gross, and that Naruto wouldn't actually be the one achieving the goal, Minato couldn't just let his son die hated by the village, not when he had a chance to change that.

'I accept, Shinigami-sama.'

Minato heard something that sounded vaguely like a sigh of relief. 'Good,' the Shinigami said. 'Don't forget, by the way, that you can't tell anyone who you really are, unless you haven't any choice but to do so. That'd take the fun out of things…'

'Shinigami-sama?'

And then there was a brilliant flash of white light and the feeling of a hand around his middle before everything went black.

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******A/N: My first Naruto fic, inspired by something I read a couple of years ago that I really can't remember the title of. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy this! Personally, Minato!Naruto has always been a favourite of mine :) Reviews and/or constructive criticisms are appreciated! **


	2. Unfortunately Orange

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. **

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**Chapter Two - Unfortunately Orange **

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The first thing Minato saw upon waking up was a bowl of ramen. This bowl of ramen was, rather strangely, defying all laws of gravity the way only a bowl of ramen could, and floating noodle down over his upturned face. 'Eat me,' it said in a whispery voice, and Minato deduced that he was probably dreaming.

The concept of being able to dream was strange. He had spent eleven years (though if he were to attempt to put a name what it had felt like, he'd have called it _eternity_) in the Shinigami's stomach never sleeping and never dreaming, having lost the ability to do so when he'd lost his sense of time. He never hoped, and he never forgot, and he never did think it possible that he'd ever come back to life again. Yet here he was.

Minato blinked and the floating bowl of ramen vanished, much to his relief, and was replaced by the sharp, stinging smell of antiseptic and the unforgiving white of a hospital ceiling.

The hospital, Minato realised, Konoha's hospital. There was a distinct lack of the nothingness he had gotten used to.

Minato shook the heavy fog of sleep away, noting distantly that the movement hadn't caused him the usual nausea, and clarity bled slowly into his surroundings. He could hear the beep of the monitors, the soft, shuffling steps of passing nurses, the noise of the civilian market outside his window; he could see, he could touch, he could _breathe_.

'I'm alive,' Minato whispered to himself, and then he said it several more times just to make sure. The endless junk-filled nothingness of the Shinigami's stomach was gone – there was no floating onigiri, no floating arm, and no floating Akihiko the Awesome. Nothing floated, actually, and Minato realised just how much he'd come to miss the feel of gravity existing.

Minato honestly didn't know how he was supposed to feel about the whole thing. On one hand, being alive was brilliant. It was what Minato always hoped for when he allowed himself to hope, that he would be alive with his family in a true _Happily Ever After (Shinobi Style)_. On the other hand, Naruto was dead, and he was alive, and nothing was the way it should have been.

Guilt didn't have to worm its way into Minato's heart. It had already found a home there, right in the centre. He felt better than he'd ever felt before – stronger, healthier – bursting with energy and chakra; but beneath the surface of Naruto's bright power the Kyuubi lurked, malicious and angry and whispering _kill, kill, kill_ – Minato forced it down. Was this what Naruto had had to deal with on a daily basis? Minato felt his stomach clench. The villagers didn't know how lucky they were to be alive.

Curiously, Minato peered down at the seal on his navel, and made a mental note to do something about it. It had weakened slightly with the sudden loss of Naruto's soul and would have to be reinforced. Minato was fairly sure he wouldn't be able to do it himself. He had seen Naruto's failed attempts at making bunshin; it was obvious that Naruto's body didn't have the chakra control to pull off such a complicated and precise sealing technique. Plus, Jiraiya would definitely find out that someone had tampered with the seal the next time he checked up on Naruto. Speaking of which, Minato still wanted to beat the Toad Sage into the afterlife for having abandoned his son.

Minato sighed and ran his hands through his hair. No one saw just how much Naruto hurt, how lonely he was. He always masked his feelings with loud grins and louder pranks – Kushina used to do the exact same thing as a child – pleading for attention the only way he could. Minato frowned. He would have to change the villagers' perception of Naruto. They would accept him, and they would love him. Naruto wasn't the Kyuubi, and Minato would make them see that.

And he had to find some way to kill Madara too…

The door was kicked in suddenly with a horribly loud bang, and Minato jumped. He hadn't sensed anyone nearby. That was unnerving, he really should have. Naruto's senses were unfortunately poor.

There was a nurse standing in the doorway, dark and angry and looking like the harbinger of doom. She scowled furiously at Minato and strode in, her shoulders tense. Minato flinched back involuntarily. He hadn't done anything wrong!

'Demon –' the nurse cleared her throat and bustled over, giving Minato a cursory look over. 'Uzumaki, you're cleared to go.'

Minato froze, shocked into silence by the look of anger and hatred on her face. How was he supposed to change something like _that_? The nurse didn't seem to notice and she leaned over, tugging at the blankets. 'I said,' she snarled, 'leave.'

'Now, now, Miko-san, that's no way to treat a child.'

The nurse's head snapped up, and she whirled around in a shock that quickly turned to fear. 'Sandaime-sama!' she gasped, eyes wide. 'I wasn't – I didn't –'

Sarutobi Hiruzen stood in the doorway, eyes and smile icy and looking nothing like the kindly grandfather Minato knew he was to Naruto. 'Dismissed, Miko-san,' he said, his voice cold. 'I think you'll find it unnecessary to return to work tomorrow.'

Miko fled, bowing hurriedly as she passed.

Minato was, meanwhile, having a little problem of his own. He had vastly underestimated the hatred Naruto was subject to everyday, and it was getting harder and harder not to want to kill the villagers for what they'd done (_yes, that's it, kill, kill them all_ – Minato shoved the Kyuubi away) to this son. Still, Naruto had never let that get him down. He couldn't either.

'Naruto?'

Minato glanced up. Sarutobi's face was kind again, though he looked even older and far more tired than he had when he'd first entered the room. Minato shifted and twisted his hands in the blanket.

'Old man, I'm hungry,' he said abruptly, channelling Naruto as best as he could. He had been able to catch glimpses of Naruto growing up, but it was never enough, and Minato was ashamed to note that he didn't know his son very well at all.

Sarutobi smiled gently, reaching out to ruffle Minato's hair. Minato leaned into the touch. He'd missed Sarutobi, and was glad to see that he was well. 'That's no surprise, Naruto-kun,' the old man laughed, 'you've been asleep two days.'

'Two days!' Minato cried, horrified. 'I've missed two days of ramen?'

Sarutobi chuckled. 'Let's go make up for it then. I've got –' Sarutobi paused here, looking shifty, '– lots of time.'

Minato grinned inwardly. He was probably running from his paperwork again. Minato himself had done it many times as Hokage, often leaving his shadow clones to complete his paperwork while he hung out with Kushina or Kakashi for lunch at Ichiraku. His grin faded. He really missed Kushina.

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Sarutobi watched in contemplative silence as Naruto dug into his ramen with an enthusiasm that was rather lacking. Sarutobi knew that he couldn't expect the boy to leap back to his feet so soon after _The_ _Incident_ (Sarutobi knew full well how close Naruto had been to death that day, having felt Naruto's heart stutter to a stop a few times), but he had been hoping that he would have. An unenthusiastic Naruto just wasn't Naruto, and Sarutobi couldn't bear the thought that he might have failed to properly protect Minato's last living legacy.

The mob of villagers who had attacked Naruto had all been privately executed, their bodies returned to their families. Sarutobi had been quite horrified to find out that Shinobi had been part of the mob too – they'd been the ones who had dealt the killing blows. He understood that civilians, being wholly unfamiliar with the fine art of fuuinjutsu, would be less accepting of the security of Minato's seal, but Shinobi too? Sarutobi was, in a word, disappointed.

And that wasn't the only worrying thing. There was a high-ranking officer on the inside who wanted Naruto dead and who had changed the ANBU guard detail. That was the only reason why Naruto had been unprotected during the precious five minutes it had taken to beat him near to death: they had attacked while the guards were changing shifts. It meant also that the mob hadn't been spontaneous – it had been planned, and Sarutobi didn't know who on earth could have planned it.

He sighed, and rubbed at his temples tiredly. He'd upped the security and ANBU patrols, taking measures to ensure that at no point in time would Naruto be unwatched. It was the best he could do with a potential traitor on the inside. He could only hope now that it would be enough, and that he wouldn't fail the boy he loved like a grandson.

0o0o0o0o

Minato watched the Sandaime out of the corner of his eye as he ate. The old man hadn't touched his food beyond the occasional noodle, and Minato was beginning to feel rather mean for having dragged him all the way to Ichiraku for lunch he didn't seem to want. Sarutobi looked like he needed peace and quiet and a good cup of sake, though Minato did appreciate his company more than he could currently describe in words.

'…Old man,' Minato chirped, grinning hesitantly and tugging gently at Sarutobi's sleeve to get his attention.

Sarutobi's head swivelled around and he jerked as though breaking out of a trance. 'Yes, Naruto?'

Minato looked down at the remainder of his broth and prodded at it with a chopstick, flushing slightly. 'Thanks for spending time with me,' he said, 'I'm really glad that you could.' And he really meant it. He hadn't been able to spend much time with the Sandaime when he had been alive – too much of his time had been taken up fighting the Third Great Shinobi War – and he was sure that Naruto had loved each and every second the old man had managed to put aside for him, if only just to ask how his day had gone.

Sarutobi's eyes softened and he ruffled Minato's hair affectionately, earning an irritated scowl from the boy. 'I'm actually hiding from my paperwork,' he said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Minato felt his face split into a genuine grin. 'Paperwork won't scare me when I'm Hokage!' he announced (it was completely untrue, of course. The thought of paperwork made Minato want to cry), 'Believe it!'

Sarutobi laughed and finally made a move towards his chopsticks. 'You'll think differently when you become Hokage, my boy. Just wait and see.' The dark chuckle that accompanied his words was strangely unnerving.

0o0o0o0o

When they got to Naruto's apartment, which was, conveniently, only a few blocks away from Ichiraku, the Sandaime bid Minato goodbye and left, leaving Minato to fumble with the keys.

The apartment was small but fairly comfortable. The kitchen had all the necessary appliances and cabinets and was also, in Minato's opinion, quite horribly messy. The countertops were covered in empty ramen cups, and the mess spread all the way down to the floor and up again onto the small wooden table in the centre of the kitchen like some sort of weird, mutated bacteria. A few dirty dishes and a carton of expired milk took up the only ramen-free space on the table. Minato wrinkled his nose delicately. He really needed to clean.

The living room was small, but decent. An empty, dusty bookshelf (that Minato decided he would need to fill; he really liked his books), a small blue sofa, and a coffee table. The floor space was mostly covered in scrolls, test papers (Naruto scored an average of two points on every single one of them), and Academy-issued textbooks. Minato grabbed a random one off the floor and felt his heart clench. The textbooks had been tampered with: important pages had been ripped out and replaced with false information. He tossed the textbook away in disgust. It was no wonder that Naruto turned out being the dead last of the Academy.

Upon entering the bedroom, Minato was greeted by piles of dirty laundry. A dark blue shirt and a matching pair of trousers lay crumpled in a dusty corner underneath the window – was it just him, or was there something green growing on the sleeve of the shirt? Eventually, Minato gathered all the dirty clothes and dumped them all into the broken laundry basket for cleaning (which he planned to do as soon as possible). None of the dirty clothes were orange, Minato noted suspiciously, and when he opened Naruto's wardrobe, he realised why that was the case.

Ye Gods, the orange!

Minato felt his eyes burn. Orange jacket, orange jacket, orange trousers, orange shirt, orange trousers… Oh, God, no! He'd been aware of Naruto's love for orange, but this was too much! It was probably genetic, Minato decided, and probably Kushina's fault. She had loved wearing red and orange – often both together, which usually made her look like she was on fire. Minato much preferred his blacks and blues. He'd settle for an inconvenient white, even Gai green, but orange…! Minato drew the line at running about in an orange jumpsuit. It was bad for one's image, bad for stealth, and detrimental to one's sanity.

Minato eyed the basket of dirty laundry and sighed, burying his face in his hands.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

0o0o0o0o

**A/N: Look, another chapter! And only after a day too :D Some parts, I found, sound kinda awkward, like Minato's conversation with Sarutobi at Ichiraku. It seems lacking, somehow. Also, Minato's emotions in the beginning were fairly difficult to write. How would one feel upon having replaced one's child? But anyway, I do hope you enjoyed this chapter! **

**Reviews are appreciated :) They motivate me! **

**Speaking of which, Guest, this is a reply to your review: Thanks for reviewing! I really appreciate it :) To answer your question, Naruto was eleven when he died, maybe a two or three months before the Genin exam. This is so Minato has time to adjust to Naruto's body (oh my, that sounds really weird). The story isn't be pre-Academy. I'm glad you like Minato!Naruto too! We need more Minato!Naruto fics around :P **


	3. Troublesome People, Troublesome Training

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto**

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**Chapter Three - Troublesome People, Troublesome Training **

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Namikaze Minato held in high regard his ability to stand firm and strong in the face of any adversity where other men would have given up and fallen. He could not – would not – allow for any mere Orange to frighten him into submission. Where many better Shinobi would have cowered beneath sheets and under beds, Namikaze Minato – powerful, intelligent, though admittedly _not _fearless – reached bravely into the closet and emerged with handfuls of Orange, only briefly concerned for the state of his sanity as brave men were often wont to be.

And then Minato found himself in a most uncanny predicament. The fact that Orange (and yes, Minato insisted on treating all colours with equal respect where naming was concerned) wasn't a colour he bore significant amounts of hatred for didn't change the fact that he wanted It incinerated, and without matches or the ability to execute a well-controlled _katon _jutsu, Minato couldn't burn the Orange the way he truly wanted to. In the end, he settled on shoving all Orange jumpsuits and Orange trousers into a black garbage bag, leaving the Orange shirts behind because Naruto without Orange would certainly look incredibly suspicious. And it wasn't like he couldn't wear something more inconspicuous over the Orange, anyway.

With that done, Minato set about sorting and washing all of Naruto's remaining clothes (save for the dark blue shirt with the plant growth that he planned to dispose of), throwing aside the ripped ones that he couldn't mend (which turned out to be a majority of the pile) and keeping those that he could. Judging from the amount of dust and dirt on each and every one of the outfits, it was obvious that Naruto hadn't bothered to clean or care for anything that wasn't orange. Minato made a mental note to purchase a new wardrobe, and underlined that note three times in red.

Having swept the floor and dusted every corner and discovered (tripped over, really, and what had possessed Naruto to believe that a loose floorboard served as a good hidey-hole?) Naruto's secret stash of money, Minato finally rose, satisfied, off the floor where he'd been scrubbing between the cracks. The evening sun shone through the window, and its golden orange glow only served to highlight the pleasing sheen of the floor, the overall cleanliness of everything else… Minato nodded, patting himself on the back for a job well done, and headed off to the kitchen to get himself a well-deserved and long overdue drink.

Ah, the kitchen.

He'd forgotten about it.

Minato picked his way carefully through the sea of empty ramen cups, wincing as he felt the stickiness of the floor beneath his feet. Genetics, Minato decided again, having found it to be a suitable scapegoat, though even Kushina had never been this messy when she was alive. It appeared, Minato thought grimly, as he eyed the grimy cups inside the sink, that while Naruto had inherited all of Minato's colouring, he had inherited none of Minato's personality – which was decidedly unfortunate, because one of Minato's biggest pet peeves was dirt. Dirt, rotten tomatoes and stupid villagers who couldn't tell the difference between a giant demon fox and a young boy – the last made him feel especially peevish.

Having done the dishes and had his water, Minato stooped to begin the arduous task of cleaning up the ramen cups. It was fairly meditative work – pick a cup, throw a cup, clean the floor, kill a bug – Minato found himself trying to plan for the future. Madara was still lurking somewhere out there, and Naruto's body, he could tell, was woefully trained: slow, short, and unhealthy – no thanks to the lack of healthy food in his diet (Minato had no doubt that the villagers were probably at fault somehow). He would need to find some way to train without drawing attention to himself; his ANBU guards (distantly, Minato knew they existed, even though he couldn't actually sense them) were probably already mildly suspicious of his current behaviour, though whatever out-of-character things he did he supposed he could blame on _The Incident_.

Minato sighed and ran a dirty hand through his hair, flopping down onto the floor in sudden weariness. He had to remember that he was currently eleven and not twenty-four. He wasn't a Hokage – he wasn't even a Genin. There were things he could do and things he couldn't do and trying to do everything would just wear him down and break him, however unfortunate it was. And it was with this thought in mind that Minato fell fast asleep, sprawled on his back and in the middle of a half-cleaned kitchen, his young body finally succumbing to exhaustion.

0o0o0o0o

ANBU Dog-II watched in vague surprise – having long since learned the importance of hiding emotions – as Uzumaki Naruto, upon entering his apartment, immediately charged into a cleaning spree like a man possessed. And he hadn't just cleared the trash, he'd cleared the orange! In Dog-II's opinion (he wasn't ROOT, of course he was allowed to have an opinion), that ranked pretty high on the List of Strange, and the fact that it was even on the list, seeing as Dog-II's entire life revolved around strange, made it Very Strange indeed.

Dog-II watched with the near obsessiveness he had been instructed to use as Uzumaki Naruto took to the floor with a cleaning rag and a lot of soap, and continued watching as the boy scrubbed it to a gleaming perfection. He didn't know how he was supposed to report this to the Sandaime; had Naruto's coma somehow turned him into a neat freak? Was that even medically possible? Dog-II rubbed his mask approximately where his forehead was. He could almost imagine how the conversation with the Sandaime would go:

'_Uzumaki Naruto has thrown out his orange clothes, sir.'_

'_What?' _

Dog-II frowned. That was pretty much the extent of his imagination, actually. The Sandaime was about as unpredictable as the weather in the Land of Waves during summer, which, bad analogy aside, meant that he was pretty damn unpredictable. Somehow constant too, though. Constantly unpredictable? Unpredictably constant? Dog-II was starting to get a headache.

He was almost glad when he spotted the gravity-defying silver hair of ANBU Dog in the distance, come to relieve him of his shift. The Uzumaki boy, he noted, had moved suddenly from a vertical position to a very horizontal position, having passed out from the exhaustion of the day. ANBU Dog-II chuckled and leapt lightly into the apartment through the window, gathering the Uzumaki boy up in his arms (he was horribly light for his age) and laying him gently on the sofa. Smiling a little behind his mask, Dog-II gave the boy a parting pat on the head before leaping out of the window and, after ensuring that ANBU Dog had started his shift, made his way to the Hokage tower to give the Sandaime his report.

0o0o0o0o

Minato woke bright and early in the morning to find that he had been relocated to the couch and mentally thanked the ANBU on duty the night before. Sleeping on the floor had never been pleasant; Minato much preferred trees, for several reasons: a) they were above ground, and enemies, shinobi or no, tended to scout the ground before they scouted the trees (a fatal mistake, especially when dealing with one as quick as the Yellow Flash), b) trees were nice. Minato liked trees.

Stretching his arms above his head, Minato slid off the couch and shuffled to the bathroom to begin his morning routine, and once there, stared sleepily at his reflection in the mirror, having not quite woken up completely yet.

Messy blond hair, wide blue eyes, and three whisker-like scars on each cheek – Naruto looked almost exactly like Minato had at that age, though with Kushina's eye shape and nose and an overall softer look to his face.

Minato reached up and traced the whisker-like marks on Naruto's – his – face, feeling guilt well up in his chest again. If not for Kyuubi – if Minato hadn't sealed it into his own son – he shook his head and ran his hand through the familiar golden locks. He couldn't think like that, not anymore. He was Naruto now, and he had a job to make it right for his son.

Sighing, Minato gave his teeth a thorough brush and showered, having had not done so the day before, making sure to scrub all traces of dirt and grime out from his scalp. Despite being fairly used to dirt, Minato enjoyed feeling clean when he could. Baths had been difficult to come by during the Third Great Shinobi War as most of them had been kept too busy to wash and shower – Minato now knew the importance of appreciating the chance to bathe. The clothes he'd washed the day before were mostly dry now; Minato picked out an Orange shirt (he couldn't yet eliminate the Orange from his wardrobe – only so much could be passed off as a result of _The Incident_) and a pair of plain black shinobi trousers, which he taped down at the shins.

Minato carefully scrutinised himself in the closet's built in mirror. Orange, check. And that was all he needed to check, really. Laughing softly to himself, Minato grabbed his sandals, his Academy-issued weapons pouch and the only good apple left before leaping out of the window.

Naruto's pantry was pretty much empty – Minato would need to go grocery shopping soon – but for now, it was time to train!

0o0o0o0o

Minato kept largely to the rooftops on his way to the training grounds in an attempt to avoid the villagers. He hadn't wanted to initially, having thought that integrating himself with the villagers would give them a chance to warm up to him, but they'd thrown rotten tomatoes and sake bottles at him despite the kind smiles he'd given everyone, and he'd left for the roofs once a gang of thugs joined the flying produce and bottles.

Upon arriving at Training Ground One (the only training ground open to Academy students), Minato immediately made his way to a target post near a copse of trees, determined to assess and correct Naruto's throwing technique where necessary. And, as he threw the first few kunai at the target post, he realised that yes, correction was necessary. While Naruto's throwing technique wasn't horrible, it wasn't anywhere near good, and Minato's style was built around speed and accuracy. He fully intended to use the Hiraishin in future, and to do so he would need to be more than extremely proficient at throwing kunai. One misaimed Hiraishin kunai could result in a silt throat, impalement, and/or death.

Minato threw his kunai and shuriken over and over into the target, fixing Naruto's throwing technique. He was momentarily tempted by the thought of using Kage Bunshin to aid in his training, fully confident that with Naruto's chakra capacity, forming armies of Kage Bunshin wouldn't be a problem, but such suspicious behaviour would definitely tip off any watching ANBU that Naruto wasn't quite Naruto.

Minato sighed, and threw and threw and threw and threw.

Eventually, when Minato had finally adjusted Naruto's throwing to a satisfactory level (though it would no doubt regress tomorrow. That was what practice was for, after all), Minato moved on to Taijutsu.

He settled into the basic academy stance. Naruto could do that, which was good. The next stance wasn't so good. Minato found his body instinctively settling into the wrong positions, which was unbalanced and very, very wrong. Someone at the Academy had probably been teaching Naruto wrongly. Minato scowled. Bloody, stupid, ignorant…

He deliberately forced his arms and legs into the proper positions, and sighed when the next stance proved to be similarly erroneous.

_How very troublesome_…

0o0o0o0o

Sarutobi Hiruzen felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 'Naruto's playing truant from the Academy, you say?'

'Affirmative,' ANBU Dog said, nodding. 'He left his house at around six this morning and headed off towards the Academy training grounds, where he then proceeded to practice his throwing. At eight in the morning, he was still practicing his throwing, and gave no indication that he was aware that he was going to be late for school.' The ANBU paused, clearing his throat. It had been a long night. He'd spent most of the time camped out in the tree outside Naruto's apartment, occasionally leaping down to intercept the odd civilian there to create trouble.

'At nine o'clock,' Dog continued, 'Naruto was still practicing, and did not seem like he was going to stop any time soon. Cat came to take his shift and I left.'

Sarutobi rested his hands on his chin. This was troubling. Just last night ANBU Dog-II had reported that Naruto had gotten rid of all his orange jumpsuits, and now playing truant from the Academy to train? He was beginning to think that Naruto was more affected by _The Incident _than he let on. Sarutobi sighed and rubbed his fingers into his temples. He was getting too old for this. Naruto had probably realised from the severe beating he had gotten a few days ago that dressing in bright, attention-seeking colours was a really, really bad idea, and that he would need to train more to learn how to properly protect himself from any future attacks.

Still, skipping the Academy just to do so…

He and Naruto were going to have a nice long talk about the importance of going to school.

'Thank you,' Sarutobi said. 'Dismissed.'

0o0o0o0o

Naruto sucked at Taijutsu.

Minato just couldn't work with the street brawling style that Naruto seemed to like to use. While it wasn't ineffective in battle, it just wasn't Minato. The jerky unpredictable-ness of the style, if it could be called that, was the anti-thesis to Minato's own smooth and flowing movements. Probably genetics, Minato thought again, mildly amazed by the similarities between Naruto and Kushina. Kushina had preferred the same street brawl style Naruto used too, and while it hadn't prevented her from becoming a brilliant kunoichi, Minato just couldn't agree with it.

He wasn't Naruto now, he was Minato in Naruto's body, and he would perfect the Academy's Taijutsu kata!

He had improved slightly since he had started over four hours ago, though he still did slip into Naruto's old stances from time to time, and he was unbelievably slow. Still, Minato thought, wiping a sleeve across his sweaty forehead, it was progress.

Stretching, he glanced up at the sky, noting the position of the sun. Lunch and a break, he decided, and then he would go back to training.

Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he leapt away.

0o0o0o0o

Minato really wasn't in the mood for ramen.

To his knowledge, however, Naruto hadn't ever eaten anything else, and as troublesome and unhealthy as it was, Minato would need to have at least a bowl of ramen a day to keep up appearances, at least until he became a Genin, where he could then use the lack of time as an excuse.

'Are you alright, Naruto-kun?'

Minato glanced up at the girl through his bangs. Ayame, he knew, had been one of the few people who had treated Naruto well, for which he was eternally thankful. 'I'm fine, Ayame-chan,' he answered, grinning brightly. 'Just a little tired from training, is all.'

'Training, Naruto?'

Minato jerked up in surprise, having not sensed, or heard anyone nearby. He winced. He really needed to do something to improve on Naruto's sensing abilities.

The Sandaime sat down beside him and ordered himself a bowl of ramen.

'Training is good, Naruto-kun, admirable,' he said, as Ayame placed the bowl in front of him. He split his chopsticks, twiddled with his chopsticks, sipped at the broth, and had a few mouthfuls, while Minato sat in tense anticipation, waiting for the other shoe to fall.

'But,' the Sandaime continued, 'that doesn't mean that it gives you the permission to skip school.'

Minato's eyes widened slightly. Ah, school! He'd completely forgotten about it. He just hadn't been to school for such a long time…

'An awesome ninja like me doesn't need to go to school!' he cried, slipping into Naruto-speak.

The Sandaime jabbed at Minato with the dry end of his chopsticks. 'Currently, Naruto-kun,' he said dangerously, 'you're right at the bottom of your class!'

'Eh,' Minato said, hanging his head in appropriate shame.

The Sandaime sighed, and returned to his ramen. 'I have no doubt that you'll becoming an amazing ninja, but to do that, you'll need to attend the Academy to learn the basics.'

'Yes, Old Man,' Minato said dully, the cogs in his brain whirling. Attending the Academy would take up seven precious hours of his day, which threw a big wrench into his plans to train. Perhaps he could work on his hand seal speed during classes or something? That could work. Hand seal speed was often overlooked by shinobi, but the longer the hand seal sequence, the faster you needed to be, lest your opponent get the chance to strike first. Speed in the shinobi world was extremely important, as seconds made a difference to life and death. It was one of the reasons why Minato loved speed so much, and the reason why he'd been so dangerous in the Third War. To him, Naruto's lack of speed was extremely irritating.

Minato drained his broth and set the bowl down quickly. 'I'll go to the Academy now, Old Man,' he announced, and left, waving goodbye as he did so.

Sarutobi waved back. Naruto did seem a little more subdued than usual, but it was probably nothing to worry about.

Sarutobi finished his ramen and began making his way back to the office. Ah, paperwork. Brilliant.

0o0o0o0o

Minato reached the Academy just in time for the lessons after lunch, which turned out to be Ninjutsu practice and target practice. As he stood in line waiting for his turn at weapons throwing, he ran through the twelve standard hand seals, incredibly disappointed with how slow and clumsy his fingers were. He would get faster with practice, he knew, and wished once again that he could make Kage Bunshin.

'Sasuke-kun!'

Minato looked up at the voice, his fingers still twisting into seals. A dark haired boy stood in front of the target board, lips lifted in an arrogant smirk as he held the kunai loosely between his fingers.

He flung them three at a time at the target board, scowling as only ten out of twelve of the kunai hit the centre. 'Hn,' Minato heard him grumble. Frankly, Minato wasn't very impressed by the boy's blatant display of talent. Sure, so maybe he was very talented, but throwing three kunai in one shot when he couldn't manage it properly? That was just showing off. He eyes caught sight of the Uchiha crest on the back of the boy's shirt and he sighed. An Uchiha, he should have known. The family were known to suffer from a severe superiority complex and the inability to form words longer than the standard monosyllabic grunt. He had dreaded working with the Uchiha when he had been Hokage; they hadn't respected him much because of his age. Still… Minato glanced around suspiciously, noting the lack of any other Uchiha around. Why weren't there more Uchiha? Surely this Sasuke wasn't the only one in the Academy.

'So cool, Sasuke-kun!' This time, the voices belonged to a group of excited kunoichi-to-be. Minato winced. Fangirls. He'd never had them when he'd been an Academy student, thank goodness, despite being Rookie of the Year. According to Kushina, he'd lacked the dark and brooding personality most fangirls were attracted to.

'Uzumaki Naruto!'

Minato's head snapped up, and he stepped forward. The dark-haired Chuunin teacher (whose name was either Satoshi or Tsuyoshi) gave him a tight and unfriendly smile, and gestured at the target board. 'You know the drill, Uzumaki.'

Minato did.

The practice in the morning had yielded good results, unsurprisingly, and Minato stared in quiet satisfaction as each and every one of the kunai thudded into the centre of the target. Aim was good, speed was horrible. Again, practice.

The class was silent, he noted, and the Uchiha was glaring a hole into the back of his head. How annoying.

'You must have cheated!' someone suddenly shrieked. 'No way you could have done better than Sasuke-kun!' Someone turned out to be a pink-haired girl with the voice of a banshee. Minato gave her the evil eye, unsure of how Naruto would have reacted in this situation, and the girl flinched back, surprised.

'You're right, Sakura-chan,' Either-Satoshi-Or-Tsuyoshi-Sensei said, frowning down at Minato. 'You must have cheated somehow, Uzumaki.'

Minato flushed. How on earth did one cheat in target practice? With strings? Genjutsu? Ninjutsu? It just wasn't possible!

'I didn't cheat,' he protested, as Either-Satoshi-Or-Tsuyoshi-Sensei grabbed him roughly by the arm and began dragging away from the class. 'I didn't, honestly. I just practice a lot!'

'Right,' Either-Satoshi-Or-Tsuyoshi-Sensei scoffed. 'As if I'd believe a de – boy like you.' He pulled Minato all the way to the back of the building, and shoved him into a corner there. 'Stay put,' he instructed, 'and reflect on your actions and the consequences of cheating. And if you're not here by the end of the day, there'll be hell to pay.'

Minato scowled at his back and sat himself down on the ground, letting his fingers twist into the twelve seals again. He might as well use the time constructively. School would end in another two hours anyway, and if Either-Satoshi-Or-Tsuyoshi-Sensei wasn't back by then, he would dismiss himself from school.

'Bastard,' he grumbled under his breath, and lost himself in the repetitive movements of his fingers.

0o0o0o0o

When the bell rang to signal the end of the school day, Minato waited for a good half-an-hour for Either-Satoshi-Or-Tsuyoshi-Sensei to come back. Sure enough, he didn't, and Minato huffed to himself as he left the school anyway. Training grounds it was! He had a good few hours to go before sunset.

Upon arriving at the training grounds, however, he quickly apprehended that he was not alone and, to his annoyance, that the attending party was none other than Uchiha Sasuke, standing at the edge of the small lake near the target post Minato had used earlier and firing multiple Gōkakyū no Jutsu over the water. Minato scoffed and ignored him.

Minato ran through the hand seals another fifty more times, before moving on to the next part of training: Ninjutsu.

He tried henge first. Simple enough. He would need to be proficient in it to go grocery shopping. Naruto's henge had an annoying tendency to slip, and, Minato realised, as he raised his hand to rub at his cheeks, was not nearly good enough to cover up the whisker marks.

Kawarimi came next. Naruto could replace himself with logs around his size, but nothing smaller. Minato would have to work on that too.

Finally, bunshin.

Well, shit.

Minato stared in horror at the half-dead clones lying around him. One was frothing at the mouth, another came in a shade of off white, and the last had only half a body. His chakra control was shit! The clones poofed away as Minato, swearing under his breath, headed off to the library. He needed to practice advanced chakra control and he needed a reason for knowing it, lest he draw unnecessary suspicion to himself.

Troublesome, he thought, and somewhere in the distance, Nara Shikamaru sneezed.

0o0o0o0o

**A/N: A nice long chapter! Nearly four thousand words, people! The longest chapter yet! I'm actually quite proud of myself. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this one too. Updates will come at least once a week form now on, I think. Review, guys! I love reviews! **

**Reply to Guest: Thanks for the review! Minato-Naruto, unfortunately, will still be the 'dead-last' :( I think the Academy probably takes the entire year into account when giving the final grade, and since Naruto's been dead-last for so long, two months just isn't enough to give him a good final grade. So even if Minato aces the graduation exam, his final grade will be pulled down by the results from the rest of the year, and he'll end up dead-last anyway. But yes, he'll be kicking Sasuke's butt in a spar sometime soon, so look forward to that :P I'm glad you've been enjoying the story! **


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